Giving kids the (library) privacy they deserve

I am about to send out an e-mail that won’t do anything to boost my popularity rating. It goes back to the conflict most of us experience for the first time no later than second grade: being popular versus being ethical. The stakes are low this time, but what I have to say won’t win me any friends and will probably brand me as the library prig. Still, I maintain it’s the right thing to do.

The story is this: I am the library volunteer coordinator for my children's school, which is grades K-8. Recently I found out – not from my own kids but from a comment dropped casually by one of their friends, and another time from my own observation – that a few volunteers at the circulation desk like to comment on the kids’ choices as they check out their books. And that raises a red flag for me. Even if the intent is harmless enough – and there’s no question here that the intent is one hundred percent harmless – I maintain that it’s poor library protocol, and therefore my responsibility as the volunteer coordinator to say something.

One reason I’m so attuned to this issue is that the staff members at our local public library are unfailingly scrupulous about never commenting on a patron’s choices. At times it feels almost as if they’ve taken a vow of silence, though I realize what they are actually doing is adhering to a prescribed professional standard. They exchange pleasantries with patrons, but they don’t comment on books. On occasion I’ve checked out a book I was really eager to read and then asked the librarian scanning my card whether she had read it. “Just last week, and I absolutely loved it,” the librarian might answer, her familiarity with and affection for the book, suppressed until I ask, underscoring in my mind how seriously they take their commitment to never offer an unsolicited comment.

I know some of the school volunteers disagree with me; they think they’re just being friendly and encouraging children to read by commenting “My son loved that book!” or “Oh, did you read the newest one by this author?” They’re right; that is friendly, and I’m all for making adults accessible to kids in our roles at the school. But kids need to feel that they can read whatever they want without oversight or editorializing from their friends’ parents.

Though I’m not well-versed in our school library’s collection, I’m sure we can all think of examples where a kid might want to read about something without a random adult observing: physical development, for example. But that’s only the most obvious possibility. Wouldn’t you as a parent want your kids to know they could check out “What it’s like when your parents divorce” (all of these are hypothetical examples) or “How to make friends after you move to a new town” without another parent in the class remarking on it? Maybe those are too obvious as well; no library volunteer would make a tactless remark about any of those topics. But suppose you are a kid who knows your parents always boast about what an advanced reader or insightful scholar you are…and on this particular day you just really feel like indulging in a little Captain Underpants. That child should likewise have the confidence that the choice will be politely ignored by the adult at circulation.

Ultimately, it just makes sense to give the kids a sense of autonomy when they choose their reading material. Many people feel that libraries are the last bastion of privacy in our society, given the stand they took nationally against computer searches and other aspects of the Patriot Act. Not only do we owe the kids the same privacy, but we also might as well take this earliest opportunity to start implanting the message that libraries are a place where confidentiality is always respected, in any situation, for every library user.